


Every Time You Go

by mydickisthealpha



Series: I Won't Blame You [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 20:25:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydickisthealpha/pseuds/mydickisthealpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They insulted each other, gripping wrists and arms as an excuse to touch. The camera flashed and flashed, until, one by one, the pictures slipped out of the machine. It didn’t matter that the last one captured their first kiss, at least not at that moment, when everything was sugar sweet and the only thing expected of them was the urge of parted lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Time You Go

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a series of drabbles I write at the request of people from [tumblr](http://shercocklocked.tumblr.com). They're mostly for writing practice, but I thought I'd share here anyways.
> 
> This particular request was a drabble inspired by the song 'Every Time You Go', by Ellie Goulding.

It didn’t start with a passionate declaration, nor any dramatic scenes, like covering bleeding wounds, or running for their lives. Lord knows how theatrical they both could be, spending so much time practicing lines in a mirror just to face the world. No, it was a beautiful day at a county fair, the pack out for bonding, as a break from the tragedy their world had become.

Stiles and Derek stayed back, watching, talking, and teasing as usual. The picture booth was open, and Stiles dragged Derek in with little protest. They hardly fit together; Derek’s broad shoulders took up too much room, while Stiles’ long limbs jabbed the sensitive areas of Derek’s side. They insulted each other, gripping wrists and arms as an excuse to touch. The camera flashed and flashed, until, one by one, the pictures slipped out of the machine. It didn’t matter that the last one captured their first kiss, at least not at that moment, when everything was sugar sweet and the only thing expected of them was the urge of parted lips.

They fell into each other quickly, after that, after denying anything for a long time. No one and everyone was surprised, and who knew what for. Because Derek found Stiles attractive or clever? Or perhaps because they meshed together so well? 

Oh, they still fought. They yelled all the time, and with such heat, but whatever it ever was, it was always solved. They saved each other, saved the pack, the whole town, even. Scott said it was odd that they seemed so changed, even if they were the same. Stiles should have known. 

When they were together, everything seemed somewhat bearable. When they breathed into each other’s mouths and bruised each other’s skin, they were able to forget. They could pretend and the mirror wouldn’t be necessary, because they reflected themselves back to one another with such belief it put the dark lines of mountain ash on pavement to shame. Stiles should have known.

Derek left when Stiles told him he loved him. He didn’t even say anything, just disappeared as if he had never come back at all. The pack didn’t talk about it, not to Stiles at least. So, after making sure Scott would be okay leading the pack, Stiles went to college.

He tried, somewhat, to move on, but no one seemed to compare and he was still in love with the smell of leather. He buried himself in college work, studying with a dedication his professors appreciated and his father worried over, avoiding his mirror. He wouldn’t see his own reflection there anymore. 

So, when he got a call from Scott back in Beacon Hills the beginning of summer, he dropped his plans for staying in the town his college was in, and booked it back home. When he made it there, a storm blowing in to meet him, Derek was in his room, soaked. 

He wanted to yell at him, hit him even if it wouldn’t hurt him. He wanted to insult Derek and make him feel the pain that he had; a seed planted and sprouting from his collar bones no matter how many times he ripped at the stems, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a weak, utterly stupid, “Why?” 

The resulting, ‘I’m sorry’ shouldn’t have made Stiles rush over to take him into his arms (but of course it did). 

He really should have known not to make the same mistake twice. 

Derek moved in with him for his last year of college. It was too easy to fall back into everything. But… there wasn’t silence as he ate his breakfast, smiling at Derek between sips of coffee. There wasn’t an empty, cold bed that kept him awake, but one with a body on top of his, sheltering him and making him forget all the things he was. 

It was wonderful, and neither of them asked for much from one another. 

When Stiles graduated, they moved back to Beacon Hills. It wasn’t quite the same. There weren’t as many monsters, just politics and codes to stick to. Life was simple, and Derek and Stiles enjoyed each other like they hadn’t been able to before. There was time now, no homework deadlines, no life or death situations. 

It was just too easy. 

One by one, his friends got married, and with each passing marriage, Derek stayed away longer. The promise in that curled around Stiles like a vice and he felt himself breaking apart, gently, every time Derek came back, only to go again. 

When Stiles wasn’t teaching, he slept. It seemed like it was all he wanted to do. Maybe it was what he needed to do. He stared at the empty bed beside him and counted the regrets with nothing of bitterness, and every ounce of sadness.

He made his decision while Derek was away, and he was at his weakest. There was a note ending in his name that he left on the table by the bed, and he opened the back of a picture frame to pull out a familiar strip of photos. He traced the last one slowly before setting it on the note.

It wasn’t so hard, being the one to go. 


End file.
